Help Pour Out the Rain
by Kariko Emma
Summary: Yondy, Kakashi, and a storm. Sensei's just doin' his job.


**Help Pour Out the Rain**

**Summary: **Yondy and Kakashi and a storm. Sensei's just doin' his job.  
**Author's Note:** Not much to comment on this one since it was so random; I wrote it sometime last fall. That hardest thing was coming up with a title. (I am so incredibly terrible at that…ugh…) (Uh, thanks Buddy Jewell... :) I kinna like where (future..) Yondy comes in, though. He always saves the day, right?**  
Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto; but if someone were to hand him over to me, I would not refuse...  
**Genre:** Um…General, Humour.

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He was pretending he had something important to do, like count the tiles on the ceiling or look for secret trap doors on anything that was hardwood or laminate. Physically he stopped the shaking by the uncomfortable position he coiled up in the wooden chair. Clearly he tried emulating the 'doctors are damn slow' look, just naturally trying to look ticked, which wasn't necessarily hard to do in his case. Small as he was, he had inches left on the chair, so he wondered if he could maybe find a potted plant to put there, would that make him that much more invisible? It was such a good place to hide, there, in the corner, acting all ticked, but the motivation factor was the only thing that would make anyone that crazy: fear. He could still see the light flashes like fifty cameras going off on this right, only he couldn't make himself believe the girl at the counter was a high end movie star. The thunder rolled, as if penting out the silent rhythm of his terror. So oh yes, he's still marveling at his brilliance. He's stuck in the lobby of the hospital 'cuz he got too damn scared walking home in the sudden storm where the lighting taunted at him and still taunts him now.

He had run like hell into the building. When the girl had asked him if he was dying, he said no thank you and that's when he found his seat. About every other minute he thinks he'll make a run for it this time, but then the big camera flash makes sure it gets the panoramic view that includes him and the top floor. It actually lasts for seconds, several seconds. So he pretends he finds the trap door and looks at it, stone-eyed white in horrification as if twenty kumogakuré ninja were going to come flying out of that schedule chart behind the poor young lady…except he's terrified, not of an invasion, but of inclement weather for Sandaimé's sake! He resolved he'd overcome this fear, but nothing had ever worked. Slowly, he blinks and watches the girl continue some routine of paperwork as if nothing had ever happened. Suddenly, he feels he lost feigned indignance, but all he keeps hearing is that continuous roar of thunder making him nervous, making him just try and guess when the next big crash would be coming to get him. Carefully, he shifts his gaze to the only other person between himself and the girl…and that person was seated nicely in a chair, just doing a jigsaw on an ottoman. Oh how clever indeed. Unphased, the guy grinned as he found another piece inside of the frame. Oh Kakashi would have loved to kill that guy.

The rain seemed heavier now; to his right the unseen windows proudly offer more flashes to the walls. Personally, he didn't know what was so great about taking pictures anyway. Eventually the ink fades, paper gets torn, that sort of thing. What exactly is the point? Same thing with paintings—the paint cracks, the paint chips, the paint peels, and the paint falls off. 'Fits with the whole 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' thing. A sound of thunder agrees with the moral dilemma. The rain sleeted the irony. The lightning…he was so afraid of the_ lightning_. The guy, let's go ahead and dub him 'Bob', again discovers another piece, proving _irony_ strikes twice. Small as he is, it feels like hours he'd been there, enduring a storm that refused to end. Time is mass, Bob must have known the time, but instead Kakashi squints behind him, forgetting to look angry. He could hear giant lakes filling as the water floods out the gutters and falls out of the sky. The windows served doubly as plunking bucket calls ushering death, and as he returns to glance at Bob another big one happens. He can't help but hug his knees and pray that when he opens his eyes, it will all have just disappeared.

Laughter—it sounded far away.

"Ha-ha! I saw it hit the tower!" He may have been gesturing or out of breath or both. "Amazing!"

"You mean the forty-fourth grounds over there? I'm glad it's so late in the evening," She was probably fretting cordially and conversationally. "Oh that poor project."

"Heeheehee…" He must have cheated death or something. "Oh boy, I swear—amazing."

"…Considering it's seven or eight miles away…" she stated plainly.

He sounded young. "Aha-ha-ha…Well I…I get around…quick…ah…haha-haa…"

He must have been handsome; with her pause, she had to have been blushing. "Well you're welcome to run in here anytime."

"Ha-ha…thank you," But his breath caught; he must have realized something.

Kakashi did not hear what he said or asked, but it became evident in the young lady's answer: "Oh, the boy? He's been here a little while now."

Aw crap; that's right…

Kakashi wondered what he should do. He refused to move the slightest; he refused to look. He could feel Bob staring at him now, and, for the first time since he came in, he could actually hear that clock ticking behind him, probably laughing at his face…or lack thereof. He wondered if there could possibly be some magic potted plant he could instantly hide behind in this Bermuda triangle of impending doom. Logic suggests he can still lie to turn this around, but he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to keep it consistent, let alone lie in the first place. He could never seem to fool sensei. Wow, damn sensei…always seeming to show up when he was least wanted. Kakashi loathed it; he needs only the memory of a stuffed up nose to remind him of _that_. He shuddered. Life sucked. He pretended he couldn't hear sensei's footsteps, instead focusing on the lull of the rain, pretending, even with scary distant crashes, pretending to be sleeping, of all things.

The man Minato hardly had to study the boy to know all these things. Of course it was a common shinobi rule to seek out the hidden meanings within the hidden meanings, but really, when he can look at him no different than a little girl looks at a flower, it's pointless to deduce any further. The boy was suffering from an unnatural correlation of fears, and Minato suspected this time only wuv and company would ease the pain. (Yes he means wuv.) But Kakashi was adamant about wuv, and all things concerning the grander concept, 'love'. This was not to be pranced around lightly, and Minato knew this well since he executes it perfectly: "Kakashi…what are you doing here?"

Kakashi…'woke up' and then gathered a breath (likeuhtheANBUblackoppstoldmenottotellunderthestrictestconfidencesoIcan't) and went…: "Stuff," Partly to throw his sensei off and partly because it was in his concealing nature. The two often went together just splendidly.

Sensei blinked as he often liked to do on various occasions throughout the day and considered this. The obvious answer would be an inquiry, but Minato decides to utter a simple adverb almost indifferent in tone. "Really."

"Yes."

They were short and to the point like this. It was never a game, but someone always had to smile at this point, and it was usually sensei. Oh, what a way to point out the absurdity. He smiles, because sensei just can't contain something this funny. So, he pursues the genius, "Kakashi?"

"Yes?"

"How about I take you home?" He made a gesture with his hands as if speeding off like shuriken; which of course sensei was capable of, but never could be found bragging about. So, he was contently modest like that.

"Oh—uh, um…I—" Well, think fast, genius. "I had something really bad for dinner," He tried making a face only to forget the obvious. So, he added, "It's, um, not agreeing with me. So…I shouldn't, sorry."

However sensei was unphased. "Really," Another good adverb.

"Yes."

So after a moment of careful consideration at their slew of next one-liners, Minato got it: "Kakashi,"

"Yes?"

"How about I sit with you?"

"Ok,"

He wasn't sure why he said it, but some things just go unreasoned. (It was entirely pointless to deduce any further, anyways.) He watched sensei smile like the sun that never forgot to rise.

The man Minato pulled up a chair.

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_Do you think Lord you could use another angel to help pour out the rain...?_

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-Caliko 


End file.
